


We're Both of Us Beneath Our Love

by AvaRosier



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 19:03:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaRosier/pseuds/AvaRosier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's over a decade since Scott and Lydia's paths really began to cross in high school. Now, they are finishing up med school and a doctorate, respectively, and they've been married for three years.  But today, paradise can be found in those small, simple moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Both of Us Beneath Our Love

**Author's Note:**

> title is from 'Dance Me to the End of Love' by Leonard Cohen/the Civil Wars. I wrote this in one hour when I was dealing with writers block trying to finish three fics.

“Mhmm. Oh my god,” Lydia moaned around her forkful of chocolate torte.

“Good?” Scott murmured from underneath her, his thumbs stroking the soft, bare skin of her inner thighs where they were pressed against his ribs. Swathed as she was in an enormous oversize knit sweater, she could still feel the cold, crisp winter breeze wafting inside the open windows of their bedroom.

“So good that you won’t even need foreplay once I’m done,” Lydia said, enraptured by the downright erotic way her fork tines were sliding through the chocolate filling before encountering the moderate resistance of the gingersnap crust.  She looked away from the small plate, balanced as it was on Scott’s naked chest, when it began to shake from the force of his laughter.

Her husband (and how she still marveled at calling him that) was giving her one of  _those_  looks. They had been together for eight years, married for three, but they had known each other for twelve- if you counted from when their lives had begun to cross paths in their sophomore year of high school. And this was the same look that Scott had began to give her that awful night of her sixteenth birthday, and that same look that had gradually became  _more_  when they were nineteen and alone at college together.

Lydia had later realized that it was the look that meant ‘ _I love you_ ’.

Scott angled his head on top of his pillow and studied her with dark eyes. He hadn’t shaved since yesterday morning and there was the definite growth of scruff. Not that Lydia minded. It was ten o’clock on Sunday, and the world outside was gray and wet. She hadn’t shaved her legs in days, either, and Scott never minded that. Even now, one hand was running over a bristly calf. Scott bent his other arm back underneath his head and grinned up at her as she scooped another forkful of pie into her mouth.

“Mmm,” she hummed, closing her lips around the silver tines as she tried to lick as much chocolate as possible from the utensil. Her eyes were becoming heavy lidded as she enjoyed the rich chocolate treat on her tongue and took in the attractive picture Scott made, smiling a bit as she reached out with her free hand to lightly tickle the dark hair sticking up from his exposed underarm.

“Ugh, babe. Don’t make noises like that, please!” Scott groaned, yanking his arm back down to stop her from teasing him further.  “Do you know what those noises do to me?” He posed rhetorically, waggling his eyebrows playfully at her.

Lydia smirked and twisted around as much as she was able, and lifted up the thick bedcover from where it had been draped over Scott’s hips. Peering down at his already sizeable erection tenting the black boxer briefs, she giggled. “Oh, I think I have an idea, sweetheart.”

Letting the covers fall back over him, she turned her attention back to the torte, which was more than half eaten by this point.  Scott busied himself with running his hands underneath the hem of her sweater, cupping her bare bottom and squeezing lightly. And then he slid his hands up over to her distended belly, where their baby had been growing for the past five months.

“I can hear its heartbeat now, you know,” Scott said.

Lydia leaned into the soft pressure of his hands. “Is it weird, hearing the heartbeat when we’re like this?”

Scott shook his head.

“Nah. It’s like the doctor said- sex is good for you and it doesn’t hurt the baby at all. I mean, I know other fathers sometimes get weirded out just seeing the belly. But all I want is to be with you, and then it’s not so weird at all.”

Their apartment was small and not so bad for Cambridge. They had fallen in love at Berkeley, and when Lydia had been drawn to do her Ph.D at Harvard, their relationship had nearly broken off at the possibility of being an entire country apart. But Scott had revealed to her that he had applied to several east coast schools, and Harvard Med had given him a pretty attractive scholarship.

“No obligations,” Scott had told her, knowing how nervous she could get about burdening someone with her own aspirations to the detriment of their happiness. And she didn’t want Scott to hate Massachusetts so much that he fell out of love with her. “They have an amazing pediatrics program, and I want that. And I don’t want to stop being with you, either. Okay?” 

And she had nodded against his palms, cupped against her jaw line, and she had looked up at him with worried tears. But he had given her that look. The other look, the  _Alpha_  look, the one that made her trust him implicitly.

“Okay,” she had told him.

After less than a year in Boston, it had been Lydia who proposed to him. They hadn’t bothered with a big wedding- a small, intimate gathering when they were home one Christmas ended up being more perfect than anything Lydia’s childhood fantasies had cooked up.

Living together had ended up being tricky. Lydia was spoiled and used to having a lot of money. She did have a head for practicality and budgeting, but sometimes it was hard for her not to go spend money on the latest bag. The trade-off was that she had someone who loved her unconditionally, whom she could bare her soul to without fear of rejection. It was a heady feeling, to truly be loved. And it satisfied her hunger more than a purse ever could.

The baby had been a bit of a surprise. But she was nearly done with her Ph.D and already had several amazing jobs lined up in the area. Scott was nearly done with his Med degree and was set to start his pediatrics internship next year. So, while the pregnancy was an unexpected surprise, it was not an unwelcome one.

But for now, it was a lazy Sunday in January, and Lydia was naked underneath her sweater.

Moaning around another bite of pie, she let her head loll backwards as she arched her spine, pressing her breasts into Scott’s palms through the thick material. She knew he was very aware of how wet she was against his abdomen.  Another wisp of cold air blew against her back and Lydia couldn’t help but shiver at the sensation on her bared bottom. Staring down at her husband, she raised an eyebrow.

His attention was glued to the tufts of hair between her thighs- pressed as they were against his belly. “Scott,” she sighed. He gave her a devil-may-care look.

“You have red hair,” he began.

They had done this many times. Lydia rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she answered him.

“You _know_ I have red hair, Scott. Even between my legs.”

One of his thumbs stroked the line of skin and hair where it brushed against the fold of her inner thighs.

“And you know how sexy I find it. You’re always beautiful to me, but especially the way you are now.  _And_ —“

“ _And_?“ Lydia parroted him in a lilting voice, bending down a bit closer, as much as her belly would allow.

“And if you hurry up and finish that slice of pie, then  _maybe_ …” Scott nudged his thumb against her labia. “Maybe I can have my own dessert, too.” He raised his eyebrows at her, awaiting her reply.

Lydia paused for a moment, and thought about the prospect of having that scratchy beard between her thighs.  And then she was grabbing the fork and digging into the crust of the chocolate torte and trying to ignore the rumbling noises of Scott’s chortles as he laughed at her eagerness.


End file.
